Supernova

I slammed the door shut and glared at my dad. He didn’t back down.

“Really, Dad?” I said. “He’s trying to-”

“Not interested,” he snapped and pointed at my face. “Every time I look at you, I have to see that scar, Nova! Every time I look at you, I have to see the pain you went through! I have to see your time in the hospital! I have to remember your tears!”

I sighed. “Look, I’ve forgiven him and I think you should, too. Like I said, I’m not the only who needed closure.”

He shook his head, throwing the napkin he was holding on the table.

“No. I don’t want to see that young man on our doorstep again, do you understand me?”

My jaw dropped. “But Dad-”

“Would you like dessert?” he interrupted. “Your mother made lemon meringue pie.”

I shook my head and stormed to my room. I slammed the door shut and glared at it.

“Can I come in?” my mom asked, knocking on the door.

“I guess,” I said and she walked in, handing me a plate of lemon meringue pie.

“Don’t hold it against him,” she sighed. “He went through a lot when you were in the hospital. We all did.”

“I understand that,” I said. “But no one went through more than I did. For Dad to act this way is just….”

“You’re the only one who has the right to decide if you want to keep in contact with him,” she said. “If it means anything, I’d like to talk to him, too. Your dad isn’t a fan of the idea, but we all need to move on. What did he make you for dinner?”

“Pulled pork,” I answered. “It was pretty delicious.”

“Are you going to… pursue anything?” she asked a little cautiously.

“No,” I said. “We’re going slow.”

She nodded “I guess that’s a good idea. But I still say you two will be great together. And I’m proud of you for starting to smooth things out.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m going to get some sleep. I need to go to the office tomorrow because of that stupid project.”

“What project?” she asked, taking my plate.

“My old high school is about to get closed down for tax evasion,” I sighed. “Ron Greene is now the principal and has been spending tax money on his personal pleasures.”

My mom shook her head. “I never liked that kid. Well, good night. I’m glad you had a good evening. I’ll talk to your dad. Maybe he can try to get by his feelings.”

I scoffed. “Highly doubtful. But you can try.”

She smiled and kissed my forehead.

-

Ethan texted me when he was ready instead of coming to the door. I didn’t blame him; especially after the way my dad talked to him. When I got in, he reached over and pulled on the lever. I frowned until the seat fell all the way back.

“Maybe this will be better,” he said and I smiled.

“Thanks.”

He nodded and pulled out into the street, rolling the window down while he did it.

“Sorry about my dad,” I said when we got to the office and were in the elevator.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I understand his anger. Really, I do.”

“I’ve asked him to reconsider,” I said.

He chuckled. “I know your father,” he said. “It’s going to take a long time for him to reconsider.”

I sighed. “He’s mad about the scars.”

The elevator door opened as he said, “So am I.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” I said, a little frustrated.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he muttered. “You don’t have to live with the memory of harming the only person you’ve-”

“And you don’t have to live with the memory of your body being crushed,” I whispered and looked at him. His eyes were full of regret. “We all have painful memories from that night, E. The only thing we can do is move on. I want to move on. I want to look at you and see Ethan Preston: 26 year old board member with a crooked tie.”

He looked down and laughed, straightening it.

“Yeah, all right. Come on; Elias wants us to work on this project. Apparently, Ron is being a bit of a pain in the neck.”

I rolled my eyes, unlocking my office door. “Of course he is. He was a pain in the neck in high school. Shit, when you think about his attitude he’s still in high school.”

He smirked. “In more than one way.”

I laughed and pulled up the document on my laptop, rubbing my eyebrow.

“All right. Now that we have everything in the computer, we need to print it out and set up an appointment with the IRS. Do we have a contact?”

“Indeed we do,” he said. “His name is Paul Emerson.”

“Can you call him for me?” I asked. “I should have this all finished in about thirty minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, making a salute and digging his cell phone out of his pocket.

I chuckled and printed out the different required documents. I got out a pen and signed my name in the first box. When he got back, I slid the documents to Ethan.

“The sooner this is over, the better,” he said.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

He sighed. “Don’t get mad, okay? But my mom has been harassing me to go out to eat with her and my dad. I caved.” I glared but he held his hands up. “Hold on. We’re going out to eat; we’re not going to her house or my house.”

“All right,” I said. “Just as long as we don’t have to hold hands or kiss.”

He chuckled, holding the car door open for me. “You mean like last night?”

I blushed. “Was that a mistake?” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “No, it wasn’t. Not to me, at least.” He bit his lip. “Was it to you?”

I thought for a second. “No. I don’t want to give you any false hopes or anything.”

“Nope,” he said. “We’re going slow. One kiss doesn’t mean we have to get married.”

“Agreed,” I smiled and he smiled back.